


Take my hand, take my whole life too

by stainlesssteelsexappeal (Chinmychangas)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: But its ok because your friends try to help, Can be taken as a reader who is Trans, F/F, F/M, No beta we die like mne, Other, Reader Insert, Reader is gender neutral, This is for all the people that had shitty memories of themselves in high school, Well not really bad just more like... yeah ok badish memories, bad memories, or just as someone that has changed significantly and moved on from an event in the past, or something, so uh metamorphosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chinmychangas/pseuds/stainlesssteelsexappeal
Summary: So the TFA gang find your awful Prom photos... guess this means time for a redo.Also maybe a dance with your favourite bot.Reader/Ratchet fic
Relationships: Ratchet/Reader, Ratchet/You, Reader/Ratchet, You/Ratchet
Comments: 1
Kudos: 54





	Take my hand, take my whole life too

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post this today because if i don't do it now, I never will.  
> TFA Ratchet is such a good amount of gruff. I love this bot so much.

You remember how the conversation began.

Sari was shouting about ‘how cool and amazing’ Bulkhead was when he used his servo to practically inkjet print a photo of the Autobot team from memory onto the wall.

It devolved into a conversation how Cybertronians flick through their processors and could practically recall almost every memory photographically on demand - even after existing for millions of years.

You explain that humans aren’t capable of such a feat, the brain reworking and rewiring itself to purge unused information and how the mind's eye can’t recreate a memory so perfectly clear - so photos are the best way to revisit memories, and show others.

Then it develops into a discussion about photography, and how photographs are kept as memories that are stored in photo albums.

And then this piques the bots interests (mostly Bulkhead, Bumblebee and maybe Optimus), with Sari jostling your arm over and over begging for you to show one.

You acquiesce.

So earlier in the day, you ride your bike the short distance from your apartment with your backpack housing the rectangular photo album.

Your mother had curated a photo album that she gifted you as a present, devoid of embarrassing baby photos where you were sitting on a potty, or running around naked in your front lawn as a toddler.

There  _ was  _ one baby picture with every square inch of your skin covered in birthday cake, but the bots had burst out laughing at your giant smile in the photo, so you couldn’t even be mad.

The Autobots crowded around you, looking over your shoulder as you thumbed through.

You flicked through the album, pointing out your family members, adding commentary, where you were at the time the photo had been taken when necessary, and answering questions that the bots had.

Even Ratchet had come to see out of curiosity, which had your heart beating hard in your chest.

The afternoon had progressed smoothly, when you had gotten to a few photos in your teenage years, and you had subtly sped up flicking through the album, hoping nobody would notice your sudden restlessness.

The hindsight to have done a proper audit of the photos came through just as hindsight does, when you turn a page only to have a feeling of trepidation coil in the pit of your stomach go off with a bang.

Taking an entire page on the left, was a professional photo of you on your prom night, a strained smile standing by yourself in an alcove for two.

Your teased hairstyle covered your eyes, your complexion was not the clearest which was highlighted with the high res image of the photo, and you couldn’t avert your eyes from the gaudy taffeta outfit you were wearing on the day.

It practically screamed for attention.

Of course your mother had put that photo in, she said you ‘looked so cute’, but all you had was revulsion rise in your stomach.

You don’t even remember this photo making it in here, if you did it would have been thrown out completely.

“O-oh!” You say in genuine surprise,   
“I, I don’t remember ever putting that in there.”

“Wait, is- is that… you? You look so different!” Asks a stupified Bulkhead, your face heating up at the surprise in his voice.

‘Y-yes!” You let out a squeak which disappears after clearing your throat.

“That was my last year of High School, on prom night. You can probably see the quality of the photo is exceptionally clear with proper lighting and camera equipment, but anyway-” You continue, going to turn the page, when Sari’s nimble hand shoots out to pin the page down flat in your lap.

“Wowww, why are you so poofy looking with your hair and outfit? And what’s a prom?” She asks, studying the photo with intensity, making you die a little inside.   
Everything about the photo reminded you of how miserable you were back in High School. How the hair was styled because ‘you’d look good’ in it despite your protests, and how the awful scratchy outfit was ‘cute’, but how you hated how you looked like, how you vehemently hated yourself.

Truth be told that you were much happier now with your own appearance, and how you changed over the years. You had moments where your self loathing would rear its ugly head, but you were much more well equipped to deal with your negative lapses of judgement.

But the photo brought back painful stabbing memories, which you had no intention of sharing with the group at the moment.

However, you couldn’t help your face start to turn a cherry red.

You were very aware of 5 sets of optics and a pair of eyes focusing on the back of your head and on the photo, and you do your best to answer without burning up at the question, clearing your throat at your awkward silence.   
  


“Uhhhh the hair was a product of the time, and… the uh, outfit was a little dated, I suppose. I wasn’t really in the position to fork out heaps for a brand new outfit for a single night,” You explain, hoping that the waver in your voice wasn’t too evident.

When nobody said anything you continued,

“A prom is a celebration that happens at the end of a school year. This was my Senior Prom, meaning it was a celebration of my final year of high school with my classmates. We have a party to celebrate all that we accomplished in our studies. You know, to create a happy memory from it,” You conclude.

  
“Really? Cos you look kind of miserable,” Interjects Bumblebee, pointing at your subtly pained expression, and you try not to implode at his gauche comment.

“Uh, I guess, um. Well, yeah, I didn’t really enjoy it that much to be honest,” You reply, face heating up dangerously as you let out a small awkward laugh.

“Why? How come you didn’t enjoy yourself?” Asks a curious Bumblebee

“Oh.. uh, I guess my partner didn’t show up when they were supposed to and, um I kinda didn’t fit in the high school I went into,,” You reply, almost a little too fast, and the silence racked your nerves.

“Well, what’s a partner supposed to be for you at a prom?” Sari interjected, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your expression neutral.

“Well, during the year you get asked out by someone, or vice versa. And then on Prom night, you get dressed up, go to the venue with your partner. You usually choose someone you like, someone you might have a crush on, someone that you enjoy their company.”   
Sari’s just about to grill you with another question when Prowl, who has been quiet this entire time interjected.

“It seems like the person might have found better company. Is this something that humans called a ‘fair weather friend?’” Asks a curious Prowl, and your throat feels like it’s burning .

“Yeah, I… I guess they really didn’t like me,” you say with a shrug and a smile.

Divine intervention in the shape of Ratchet intervened.

“I think that’s enough. Whatever happened in the past, we’re (y/n) friends and we care for them,” He says, getting nods and affirmations from the Autobots around you.   
You were grateful. Anymore questions and you would have melted through the couch and into the Earth’s crust.

“That gives me an idea, maybe  _ we _ should take some photos and place it in a photo album of our own!” Cries out Sari, and she clambers off the couch and to Bumblebee, excitement rising at the prospect of a new project.

Prowl and Optimus slink away, Bulkhead joining Bumblebee and Sari as they chat a little aways from the couch, throwing glances at you over their shoulders, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“You okay?” Asks Ratchet in a gentle manner, only so you can hear, and you look up to his concerned expression.

  
“Sounds like you’re glad you have that memory behind you,” He says more than asks, and you nod again.

“Yeah, it wasn’t. It, uh. Sorta reminded me of an unhappier time. But… I guess things are much better now, and I’m way happier with myself,” You say, and to prove it, you give him a genuine smile.

Ratchet’s expression softens and he smiles back.

It melts your heart into a small puddle, and you feel yourself blushing for an entirely different reason now.   
“Well, that’s all one can hope to hear,” He says, and you don’t have a chance to respond, as Sari is loitering in the entry to the warehouse.

“Hey! (Y/N)! What are you waiting for!” She shouts out to you, and you turn your head to see her waving.

“Come on!”    
“Just a second!” You shout back, and jump off the concrete couch, grabbing your bag and holding the album, hesitating.

“Hey, is it okay if you hold onto my photo album? Just while I go out?” You ask, as you look up to Ratchet.

“I couldn't imagine that those kids would take care of it well. Here, give it to me,” He says, opening his palm as you hand him over the album.

“Thanks Ratch, you’re a gem,” You say with a bright smile, and tear off to join Sari, unaware of the sudden roar of fans and exvent of hot air that expels from Ratchet.

He watches you go to meet Sari who’s clutching onto your hand and jumping up and down so vigorously that Ratchet swears she was trying to take your arm off.

“A gem, huh,” He says to himself, holding onto the photo album in his palm. He traces his thumb over the leather bound book as he looks at the tiny thing.

And when he looks up, you’re already gone.

***

  
  


“Okay, say cheese!” You say, Bulkhead looking confused before you take the snap of the three of them.

The flash goes off, and then you 

“So, Ratchet, eh?” Asks Bumblebee, and your tongue gets stuck in your throat as you blink at him, your face going red.   
“What are you talking about?” You ask, playing dumb.

“Well, you always talk to Ratchet every time you go to the base, you always ask him for a ride back, you always spend time with him when you’re not playing video games with us,” Bulkhead replies back, each point making you burn red and feel like you’re shrinking in front of everyone.

“(Y/n) and Ratchet sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G-”

“Okay! Okay! That's enough. Fine! Fine! I have a crush on him,”You say, trying to catch Sari as she tears away from you and then behind Bumblebee.

They stare at you in silence, your heart thundering in your ears.

You exhale, feeling the bots gazes as you finally.

“...Which would be fine, if you know, he likes me back,” You say scratching the back of your head.

“Sure he does! As much as we like old doc bot, none of us would be spending as much time as you with him,” Replies Bulkhead, getting a giggle from Bumblebee.

“We could make it a  _ new  _ prom! And have a super awesome party with a DJ, and a disco ball, aaaand,” She says wiggling her eyebrows, “You can confess your feelings!’ 

“No. No no no no,: You say, waving your arms as Bumblebee crosses his arms and leans forward.

“Why not? Don’t you want to tell Ratchet how you feel?” Asks Bumblebee and you wring your hands.   
“Don’t worry, (y/n), we got your back,” Says Sari 

You bite your tongue as you look away.

“Okay,” You say, deciding to put your fate in the hands (and servos) of your dearest friends. 

Primus knows how that’ll turn out

  
  


**

  
  
  


Remember, don’t be late!!!! Party starts at 6! 

Sari had drilled into you that you had to look ‘your best’ - but you were seriously starting to feel embarrassed dressed up in smart casual in front of the other bots. Something smart, but not too formal. It was no ball gown suit and tie, but simple and effective, and much more suitable to party in a warehouse.

A smaller voice inside you told you that  _ someone _ needed to show these bots how good humans look dressed up, so you decided to shove your insecurities in the back of your mind for the night.

  
  


You had been picked up by Optimus, out of all mechs. His compliment makes you feel a bit better, even though you can practically hear the badly concealed smile in his voice. And sure enough, when you drive closer to the abandoned lot, you could see strobing lights flash out of the entire building.

“Talk about subtle.”

Of course, Sari was gonna go all out.

You drive into the front yard past the metal gates, and Optimus lets you jump out before he transforms, leading you to the inside with a knowing smile.

You approach the entrance, and only then you’re able to glimpse the absolute assault on the senses.

You stare open mouthed at the entire warehouse, that seems to have been either plastered in streamers, bunting flags and decorative banners, some which read ‘Class of 78’ and ‘Graduation of 99’ to be more festive - a mystery where the decorations had been assembled from forever lost to time. You wonder what happened to the other 21 years in between.

A giant disco ball roughly the size of Bulkhead’s torso hung suspended from the ceiling slowly rotating and sprinkling the warehouse with dappling lights.

There was a DJ set and a smoke machine, and Bumblebee was playing some set that you could feel vibrate in you. A dance mat with glowing and flickering squares was on the floor, there was a table for snacks.

Your eyes fell on Sari who was waving her hands animatedly at Bulkhead who was looking at her with a head turned to the side. Optimus made his way to the other side of the warehouse, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

Why were you so nervous?

“(Y/N)!” Sari yells your name as you walk up to her, resigning yourself to your uncertain fate as she launches at you and you catch her and spin her around.

“Hey! What’s up, you started without me?” You ask as she untangles herself from your grasp and grabs your arm in a vice grip that makes you wince and drags you to the dance floor.

“Come on! Let’s party!” She says as you’re thrusted in the middle of the dance floor as she holds onto your hands and a familiar song starts playing.

You’re not a shoddy dancer, but you’re reserving your energy for the moment, and you wonder if Ratchet is bothered by the entire set - which he would be, it’s kind of loud. Wherever he is.

You look over to the disc jockey set, and see Bumblebee having the time of his life fiddling with the controls and buttons.

He’s doing a pretty good job of mixing some songs to blend into the next, and everytime you try to move around to see the doorway where Optimus is watching you amused and with arms crossed, she swivels you around so you’re facing away from the door.

You let yourself dance a little, losing yourself in the sounds, the sights and the thought of spending your time with your found friends and family. After a while, exhaustion was inching up on you.

“Hey, how about you dance a bit with Bulkhead, I need a break!” You shout as Sari suddenly grabs your hands again and throws you with surprising strength for an eight year old in the direction of Bulkhead, who seems to catch you before you fall flat on your ass.

“No! One more song!” She asks, and you take in a deep breath before you decide to aqueise, shaking your head.

You dance halfheartedly to reserve your energy to a low key song, before Bumblebee finds his newfound talent, and suddenly it’s playing an old melody you remember jamming to in your bedroom.

“Oh! This song!” You exclaim as you grab Sari’s hands and wiggle her arms a bit, much to her amusement.

  
“Come on Bulkhead!” You yell encouragingly at him, and he awkwardly jumps from side to side, sending tremors through the ground, as your feet automatically jump to the beat and start dancing alongside them with nothing short of a miracle that you’re standing, as you sing along.

You’re two thirds of the song in, dancing, singing, laughing at Sari’s jerky approximations of dancing when you glance over to the doorway by complete chance, and see Ratchet standing beside Optimus.

You make brief eye contact with Ratchet, his optics blown open in surprise, and something else in his face that’s hard to point out as he drinks in the scene, while Optimus talks with his mouth covered by his hand into the side of Ratchet’s helm.

Ratchet’s face is becoming more fluorescent as Optimus speaks and you shoot him a smile and a wink to which you turn back to Sari.

You miss Optimus almost bursting into laughter at his friend’s contained meltdown, you having no idea how much you’re messing with his feelings.

Your face is flushed red with the exertion, and you pretend it’s from holding out the dance the feeling of Ratchet’s eyes on you. Your heart shudders almost painfully in your chest, and you know you’re going to lose your nerve. The song changes, and you give the ‘time out’ signal with your hand, and make your way over to the food stand to get some water to cool yourself down.

You take in the cool water from the cup, and take a breather for your sore muscles and a chance for you to catch your breath.

You faintly hear Sari yell ‘stage 2!’ over the music.

You put the cup down on the table once you take a moment, and suddenly the music quietens down, the disco ball slows, and the lights almost go out with the floor as the smoke machine starts going off.

You turn to see Sari grab your arm and drag you across to the dance floor.

“Sari, wait! What are you doing, what’s going on!” You say as she motions you to stay there before she seemingly grabs a microphone from nowhere.

“Attention, uh… mechs and (Y/N!) it’s time for the slow dance!” She shouts, making you clap your hands over your ears.

Wait  _ what??? _

“Sari-” You begin to call out to her.

“So who is gonna take the dance with (Y/N)! Maybe someone in the crowd!” Sari half shouts, and you feel your guts drop out of you as you feel yourself break out into a cold sweat.

  
“Sari, what’s going on!” You shout back at her, but she’s ignoring your question and forges on, even when you try to wrestle the microphone out of her hand. 

“Maybe someone that’s red and white can join them?” She asks, casting a hopeful gaze at Ratchet, who has his arms crossed and casts a dour look at Sari.

Your guts tie themselves into knots again at the scowl he’s giving Sari.

It softens when he looks at you, and that alone almost blows you off your feet and into next week.

He only has the most gentle, softest eyes for you, and you’re completely surprised that your knees are still working with the knowledge that  _ you alone  _ have that effect on him.

You’re spellbound.

In fact, you’re so head in the clouds absorbed in that singular thought, that you only stop to notice Ratchet walking up to you when he’s halfway across the floor.

The thoughts die in your brain as Ratchet’s form comes into clarity the closer he gets. Your brain is falling over itself to try to string a coherent thought and get your body functions together so you don't stare at him with your mouth gaping open in total shock, but you’re far to late to amend this slip up this far into the game.

The wind is thoroughly knocked out of you as he transforms in on himself a few feet away from you to make himself smaller, which is a joke considering he still towers over you.

“You doin alright kid?” He asks, his voice gravely but not entirely as strong as you would have imagined it, which makes your heart rate skyrocket.

“It’s, uh, I’m fine,” You manage to squeak out as you exhale, and before you’re able to comment on the absurdity of the situation, the lights flicker off completely and the disco ball glimmers.

You don’t have time to ponder what’s going to happen next when an old love song starts playing over the speakers in a slow tempo, and it takes all the self restraint not to slap your forehead in exasperation.

“I think the prom thing got to her head. I- uh” You try to laugh it off, but the serious face that Ratchet has makes your tongue lie imp in your mouth.   
“Uh, Ratchet?” You croak, as his ethereal piercing blue optics light his face and make you feel so very exposed.

“ _ OI! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DANCE _ !” Shouts Sari from the sidelines through the megaphone as you’re immediately taken out of your reprieve ,almost jumping out of your skin.

“Oh… right. Uh, I, we don’t, uh-”

Ratchet turns around to the gloom and shouts back.

“ _ THEN STOP INTERRUPTING FOR PRIMUS’ SAKE!”  _ Ratchet shouts back, a wonder that your eardrums haven’t blown in the vicinity of his voice.

You can practically hear an eye roll along the response of ‘Alright! Sheesh…’ before he turns back to you.

“So, what are we supposed to do exactly?” Ratchet cuts your googly eye staring, and you swallow hard as he seemingly seems to pin you down with his bright optics. You take in a deep breath and exhale, calming your nerves as you look up to him.

“It’s a slow dance, so I’ll lead. You hold me by resting your left hand on my shoulder, and then your right with my hand,” You say lifting your hand for him to take it in yours, and placing his left hand on your right shoulder.

You feel his heavy weight of his hand gently rest on your shoulder, and your heart flips inside your chest, relishing the feeling. He’s warm to the touch, and you let out your other hand and he rests his in yours. 

You're surprised at how well his hand fits into yours, even though he’s a little larger than you.   
Placing your other hand on his waist, you take a small step in, being mindful of the bulk around his middle, and slowly take a step back and gently guide him.

“You know kid, this isn't the first time I’ve danced like this before.”

Ratchet quickly follows through with his footsteps, and you relax substantially in his grin, turning red at the exhaustion of trying to stifle an embarrassed squeak.

Your face burns hot and you feel Ratchet lean over to speak lowly into your ear, which rattles your heart into overdrive.   
“I thought you were looking mighty uncomfortable standing out in the open by yourself,” He murmurs.   
“I- yeah, I guess, I feel bad if this takes you out of your comfort zone,” You try to rationalize, and you feel Ratchet’s chest shake as he tries to hold in a bark of laughter.

“Uncomfortable? Sure, if Sari started crying I would have done it anyways, but I... “

The pause makes you realize how protected you are with Ratchet leaning over just a tiny bit more. His soft spot for Sari was adorable, and made your heart race for him. His forearm is shielding your face from onlookers, and only you are privy to his voice only.

You were so hopelessly enamored with him, everything reminded you of him, every little action made your chest hurt with anticipation, and you feel like you were going to explode.

The soft contact, the warmth from Ratchet, the fans blowing gently from him as it was used to cool down his frame, made it all feel like a dream that was all too good to be true.

You were scared that you were going to wake up, and you hung desperately onto the silence as he tried to find his words.

  
“I guess… I feel comfortable with only you around,” He says softly, almost yearning.

You look up from your position to look up to Ratchet properly. His gaze is so soft, so enamored, so endearing that you almost forget to function.

You almost stop walking and have your feet stood on by Ratchet, and you grab onto him for dear life as you manage to right yourself and escape from being trodden on, as you try to find your voice.

You try to steady your voice and breathing,   
“R-really? You, you really feel that way about me?” You say, feeling like you were so very far away.

He nods almost solemnly. 

“Can we talk more, in private” You say, eyes open and mouth parted, forgetting about everything and anything around you as you try to struggle for a coherent way to tell him your feelings.

The music dies out and Ratchet slows down, giving you a smile at your shocked expression and a nod, and he straightens up as Bumblebee follows it up with an upbeat song.    
The lights flicker on in the whole warehouse, and he reluctantly parts ways, your hands slipping out of his as he watches Sari and Bulkhead along with Bumblebee run up to the dancefloor.

You feel confused, almost heartbroken, your brain racking up for an excuse as to what just happened when your thoughts are immediately disturbed.

“Ughh I’m glad that was over! I know it was supposed to be mushy, but now you can dance!” yells Sari over the music as she jostles your arm and tries to spin you around.

“Yeah!” You say completely distracted as you watch Ratchet go. 

“You okay? Hello? Earth to (Y/N),” Asks Bumblebee, having made his way to the dance floor now that he set the DJ with his mixes.   
“Yeah! I need some time out! I’ll be right back!” You say, running out the back of the hangar where the washrooms installed were still operational. You don’t miss Optimus’ knowing expression.

You feel the tremors of the earth shake as Bulkhead now dances alongside Sari and Bumblebee, and you try to sneak your way to Ratchet’s place. The lights paint a somber and isolated tone around the warehouse, and you walk back to his habsuite. You could almost walk back with your eyes closed, you knew the place so well.

You step by awkwardly by his door, and rap your knuckles smartly on the metal surface.

“Ratchet?” You call out, “It’s me, (Y/N)... can I come in?” You ask, not sure if he was upset at you, before a moment passes and the doors slide open with a pneumatic whoosh.

You step in tentatively, watching Ratchet lean over the workbench on the far side of the room as the door closes behind you.

“I… uh. I wanted to thank you, for making tonight so special,” You say, trying for the anxiousness not to get to you. 

You look up to see that you’ve got his attention, his optics are wide open and he blinks in shock as he walks up towards you in his regular height.

“I know that Sari tried to help. And I think as painful as the original memory was, I was really able to create a newer, happier one. If it weren’t for you, it wouldn’t have been so special.”

You’re amazed that you managed not to mumble the last part of the sentence, but the lengthy silence that Ratchet is leaving is making you break out into a cold sweat.

“I… uh, I really do have strong feelings for you, and, if you don’t have them for me then that’s okay,” you nervously tack onto the end, exhaling.

Ratchet bursts into sudden laughter as he kneels down and places his servo for you to stand on. You pretend to look down at his hands to make sure that you get on steadily, and not that you’re hanging your head to hide your face.

He gently places you onto the table so he can see you better, and he has a wide smile on his face with his arms on his hips, making him look so much younger than he is.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t be dancing around with anyone if I didn’t have feelings for them too,” he says with a laugh, and you go luminescent with your blush as you crack a shy smile back.

“I’m… I’m relieved. I’m so glad to hear that,” You say, feeling like you’re breathing for the first time in years, and Ratchet turns around to pick something off of the workbench across the room.

“Now, I know this isn’t the best time to give this back, but. I, guess I have to confess I did look through the rest of the album,” he says almost shyly, and he opens it gingerly for you to see.

You flick past the photo album, finding the prom photo, and looked at Ratchet as your eyes flickered to the new page.

Your heart grows in size at the fond memory.

It’s a picture of you and your friend's massive sheepdog, you’re cuddling it and getting fluff in your eyes and mouth as it tries to lick your face. That photo was recent, your smile is wide and genuine, and it brings a small grin to your face as you remember the memory. The other photos were taken by your friends, and they had been printed off to be inserted into the album.

You had forgotten that the photos had been taken at all in the first place.

You flick through a few more photos, some with you messing around with your friends, playing in the snow, carving pumpkins, throwing leaves at your friends. All of them had you looking like you were comfortable with what you were doing, who you were with, who you were at that moment.

The last photo in the album had you in a tire swing - you remembered that one fondly. Your friend had taken the photo and it was almost absurd with how well it turned out.

You were lit up from behind by the afternoon sunlight dappling through the verdant foliage, the sun gently gracing your face as your hair flew out behind you as you lie through the tire hole vertically as if you were flying.

You’re mesmerizing 

You turn to say something to Ratchet when you catch him staring at the photo so fondly.

He smiles, open and vulnerable with his emotions as he’s swept away by your gratefulness, your playfulness and enrapturing smile.

“I guess you like what you see?” You ask quietly, and he blinks as he’s brought back to Earth, looking slowly from the photo album

“How could I not, with someone so unapologetically unique and beautiful,” He says quietly as he turns to you proper.

His intense gaze washes over you as you can tell he’s watching your face closely for a reaction to his words.

You relish at the fact that you don't shy away from his compliment, and take a step or two that slowly turn into tiny shuffles as you come close to Ratchet.

“Same goes to you,” You say quietly, as you lean in ever so slightly towards his face.

Ratchet, still being in his regular size, takes a chance, and leans over slowly and presses his lips against yours. 

You’re surprised at how soft his lips were, you were expecting hard metal, yet find something more pliant. He’s warm to the touch, and you gently angle your head as your eyes close. Your hands, gently running over his face and along the sides of his face guard, reaching over carefully and touch his unbroken chevron,

He lets out a soft noise at your ministrations, and the sound travels through you with a gentle vibration. His hands wrap carefully around your body, being careful to hold you gently as he strokes your back as you touch his face. 

You’re awash with affection at its highest potency. You feel so safe, so warm, so perfectly in tune with him. You don’t want this to end.

You take a moment to catch your breath as you take a step back, and Ratchet brings a hand to gently drag his thumb across your kiss bitten lip to admire you.

“What, you’ve had your fill already?” You ask, a smirk on your face as he lets out a small laugh.

“Not even close.”

Ratchet presses his lips against yours again, as you lose yourself in his kiss, a small smile curling up on your lips as you feel the same on his.

You can't wait to see what the future holds with you by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> The slow dance scene is written so that you can insert any slow song that you want in the fic  
> Personally i'd put in 'can't help falling in love with you' covered by the killers, because the live version is a billion times better than the og
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading


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